


The Ritual

by Fawkespryde



Series: Bleed it out (dark one-shots) [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF, Sideshow - Fandom
Genre: Bucklington centric, Gen, Jötunn Buck, Minor Character Death, Occult sacrifices, Reaper Bed, Ritualistic death, Vampire Criken, Violence, monster au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 19:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18723502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fawkespryde/pseuds/Fawkespryde
Summary: He had lived far longer than most ever dared to dream. His eyes having seen more of the world and its cruelties than he'd ever care to admit. For that, he desired distance and lived many miles in the depths of the forest, changing territories every few centuries as humans always seemed to find him. They all desired the same thing. No matter how humble they acted, their selfish reasonings were always so blatant for someone as old as him.But Buck would allow them their worship if it provided him entertainment after his long months of hibernation. He could be kind.Oh, he could be so kind when he wanted.. But he could also be cruel when needed.





	The Ritual

 

***

The three teenagers bare feet crunched over damp grass as they walked further away from their village and towards the line of trees that bordered the forest.

“I don’t know about this.” One looked to the others, nervous energy thrumming through his body. “You know what nana says about this place.”

The oldest and obviously the leader of the three snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, that the forest steals children away if they wander out at night.” He glanced at his shivering friend. “Aren’t you a little too old to be believing in ghost stories?”

“Lots of people in the village have claimed to have seen it.” The third one chimed in, putting forth her opinion. She was holding up the bottom of her dress enough so that it didn’t drag and get dirty.

The boy at the front turned and pointed at the two of them accusingly. “Oh yeah!? Well, I think that’s hogwash. Mum is always going on about how it’ll snatch me up for not cleaning my room and yet-” There was a loud crack deep within the forest and he nearly jumped out of his skin, yelping and spinning to face the sound.

An old rotted branch had collapsed from a tree just in sight and broke on the ground, the noise reverberating through the still foliage. Despite the loud crash, nothing else deeper in seemed to stir. Not even the birds had taken flight at the noise.

“And you made fun of Dale for being scared but you don’t see him about to pee their pants because of a tree.” The girl giggled and twirled in her dress. She gently took Dale’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The two of them shared a subtle look between them as the other boy continued to glance around as if looking for a culprit that had startled him so badly.

“Shut up Erika. I’m not scared, I just wasn’t prepared for that to happen.” He pulled at the collar of his shirt in a reassuring gesture and puffed up his chest in pride. “I’m not scared of a falling tree or a monster living in the forest.”

Dale rose a hand to his mouth and chewed at his thumb in worry. “M-me neither but.. Maybe we should just go look by the fishing dock. There’s plenty of flowers that grow there.”

“Yeah, we can get those regular dumb flowers that everyone is going to be picking. Or we can get those red lilies like the one that nanas has.” The boy straightened out his back and continued to march till he reached the first row of trees. “She said that a man gave here one when she was little and that he had gone deep into the forest to get it. If I get something like that-”

“Then surely Brenda will love you..” Erika snickered into her hand and continued, enjoying seeing her friends ears burn red. “Especially when she find out that you snuck out in the middle of the night without telling your parents just to go get her a flower. You’re such a bad boy Hal.” She mockingly swooned and tumbled to chase after him when he huffed and stomped off.

Hal ignored his friends behind him as he stepped over a fallen long and into the greenery of the forest. The moss was cool and soft under his feet and his toes curled at the sensation before he continued.

“Hal, c’mon.. I was just joking! Hal you need to learn to take a joke.” Erika called out as she hurried to follow after him. Her dress got snagged as she passed by a bush and she had to stop to prevent it from tangling and ruining the skirt.

Dale and Erika spent less than a minute untangling her from the brush and were just pulling the last few burs free when they heard another crack of a tree branch snapping in the distance. They looked in the direction of the sound and then looked back where their friend had wandered off to seeing that spot empty.

“Uh oh, where did Hal go?”

***

“Hal!!”

Deep within the forest, there was a large canopy tree with a burrow carved under the protective roots. Within that homemade nest, there was a shuffle underneath piles of furs and pelts. The furs ranged from small rabbits and foxes to large luxurious pelts once belonging to large bears and wolves. A few moments of shuffling later and a single, strange looking eye opened. The figure underneath laid there, not moving from the warm nest but listening.

“Erika!”

There was that sound again and the figure let out a long drawn out yawn, jaw clicking at the stretch. The pelts slide off the slender form chosen for that evening and the creature crawled out of the makeshift bed and began the slow, leisurely pace of climbing out from the half hidden nest.

Once out from under the roots of the tree, bare in nothing but a bear pelt, did the creature really stretched out. Underneath the covering, limbs extended out and beady eyed blinked away the sleep. Bones snapped and lengthened, adjusting to the beings full 8 foot tall height and there was a tear as something forced through the fur of the pelt. Two large bone like protrusions extended to the sky and split open to form two large branches of antlers.

“Please no!”

“L-let her go…!”

The being twisted his head at that sound and tried to seek out where the sound was coming from and immediately identified with sensitive ears the deep baritone of people humming as the source. There was one last grotesque crack as the creatures spine popped back into the proper alignment and a long, wet sigh fell from from an inhuman jagged grin.

His real form was much bigger but that natural form was much more suited for travel and traversing the forest. Plus he always felt more comfortable in this side than the small, less intimidating form he chose to hibernate in. Now he could see everything, the very flash of movement from the rabbits and the birds drawing his attention in the dark. Being a nocturnal had its upsides.

The joints on each hand lengthened and clicked as they expanded. His fingers coiled in the dirt during that part of the transformation, digging into the soft soil to ease the discomfort as the tips of his fingers itched and elongated into claws. The soil was warm against the pads of his claws and after a few seconds, pulled them free to reveal the dark talons. With one final stretch and a yawn, he took off in a lumbering gallop, easily hopping stumps and brush as he hightailed it to the terrified screeches that got louder as time progressed.

There was a clearing in the distance where foliage had been cleared out to allow the construction of crude human constructs to take place. There were a few huts within a waist high fenced in area and at the centre was a blazing bonfire and three wooden poles. They rose into the air, tall and unmoving, even under the struggles of the three people tied to them.

He was still out of sight, bordering far enough back in the dark that human eyes could not see him if they were not looking for him. He shuffled on spot for a few seconds and took a deep breath, composing himself before stepping out with the purpose of what a deity should have. The people standing around the small village were still humming that deep, calming tone and they fell into revenant poses, heads pressed to the ground as he passed them by. He could smell his mark on each one of them. The other three tied up did not and from the expression on their faces, they were clearly not aware of his existence.

“Bokki..” The tallest of the worshippers whispered as though it were a secret. He was one of the first he had marked in a very long time and from the looks of it, had taken up the mantle of leadership with the gusto of a vicious zealot. He wore furs and bones and had markings of blood smeared in every which way, forming patterns that he didn’t even recognize. Humans. They always had to make a big to-do about things. He would have practically rolled his eyes were he able to in this form.

Elgr, Hafrstaka, Bani. It didn’t matter what they called him. He had many names over the centuries and they changed as frequently as the people did. Though in all honestly, he had grown attached to Buck, the namesake carrying heavily from the large branching antlers that arched up like trees reaching for the heavens.

Every couple of years though,he’d accumulate a few new names. The humans would come to him in his home and whisper them in his direction in reverance. Most weren’t worthy of his gift. But the rare few he’d meet, he would look into their eyes and find them wanting. And he would give it to them. A life of immortality, something every human desires but they regret as soon as they recognize the price several years down the road. They still aged despite their immortality. But the time they realized what had been done, he had already migrated to a new home.

Perhaps it was time for him to move on again. He glanced around at the numbers that had accumulated since his last visit. There were nine humans, each one dressed as savagely as the main zealot and wearing reverant expressions on their faces. It was a nice change of pace from the fear on the three tributes that were tearing up at his approach.

Buck stepped up to the first boy who had tears in his eyes and, he sniffed to air, he had soiled his pants as they locked eyes. He exhaled deeply and felt a tugging of a memory within the human before him and closed his eyes. The hazy imagery coming from the tribute before him drew him in further and further until he fell in headfirst.

She was beautiful, with sun kissed skin and blue eyes. The first time he had seen her was across the fields and she danced around the sunflowers like a beautiful mirage. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him but the timing was never right. He never had the right things to say and would stumble over his words, tongue tied and red faced. He told himself, one more day, he could wait just one more day. Obviously, she could not though as she held hands with another boy.

Buck took that into himself, feeling that grief and tasting it on his tongue. It was tart and bittersweet and not enough to sate his appetite. He opened his eyes again and looked up at the boy, who was staring back at him with a confused expression.

Two of the villagers cut the boys bonds free and everyone watched as he stumbled forward, his red cheeks and a shy smile on his face. His hand was extended forward and Buck extended his arms open to pull his tribute close.

“Hal, what are you doing?!?”

The boy, Hal didn’t seem to hear her and just held his hand up as if in offering. In his hand was a small crumpled flower. A red lily that only grew in the ground around the village. He smiled up at Buck and took another step forward. “I promised that I would bring you back something special. I got this just for you.”

“That’s not her! Can’t you see?! That’s not Brenda…” The girl was screeching out for her friend and the other boy was just hanging his head dejectedly, sobbing for his mother. “Hal, that isn’t her!”

But it was too late. The minute Hal touched him, his fate was sealed. His hand touched Buck’s forearm instead of the hand of the girl he thought he saw and his glazed eyes cleared up for a second, only to find himself looking under the folded over pelt that hid Buck’s face in the shadows. His fear was palpable and Buck drank deep from that fountain, grabbing the boy by both arms and lifting him effortlessly into the air. With his elongated limbs and tall stature, he found a branch up in the trees devoid of leaves and impaled him through it.

The boy gave him one last terrified scream as the branch was forced through his chest. He let out a weak gasp and his body went limp once Buck let go off him, leaving his on display with the rest of the tributes he had hanging up in the trees. Almost every one of them had a decaying corpse or skeletal figure draped over the branches. He was starting to run out of room to place them. Myabe it was time to move on.

Buck lowered himself down into a crouch and approached the other two. He paced the both of them, feeling much more sated but still hungry. The first one hadn’t been enough. It was never enough. He glanced at both of them and started reaching for the boy who was snot nosed and pleading to any deity listening.

“No, not him! Don’t you dare- t-take me instead!” She screamed at him, struggling harder to closer he got to her friend. She looked at him with a fire in her eyes and Buck was drawn to that heat. He tilted his head towards her. “That’s right.. Take me. You don’t want him! You want me..”

Buck took a deep inhale and found the thick scent of fear that had been so sweet was now overpowered by a rancid anger that had him curling up his hidden snout at her. He turned away despite her please and grabbed the other boy, not waiting for him to be cut down before he tore him clean from the pole.

“DALE!!!!” She kicked and screamed, tears streamed down her face. Nothing she did or said could disuade Buck who was breathing in the heavy macabre scenet of anguish and fear from the boy.

Buck took his fill and lifted him up to the trees, extending his arms forward till the wet sound of impaling flesh could be heard under Dale’s choked cries. Rivets of blood ran down Buck’s forearms and he let go to turn his attention to the final tribute who was looking at her dirty bare feet with a dispondant expression.

He was full after gorging himself on the other two boys but didn’t feel any drive to mark the girl like the rest of his worshippers. That’s what he usually did with the leftovers but for some reason he couldn’t with this one. The way she had pleaded too willingly to give up her own life for her friends, it resonated with him strongly. It reminded him of someone.

Glancing down at his feet, he saw the crumpled flower that had been offered to him by the first boy. A red lily. He stood over it and looked around, seeing the people still prostating before him, heads in the dirt. Even the man who had cut the first boy loose was on his knees, humming deep in his throat. Buck took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He felt deep into himself and found that part of him that he pulled to the surface when he needed it and right now, he needed that form more than anything.

He hunched forward and began the slow transition, changing in front of everyone. He had only ever done so a handful of times and was sure to space those times out greatly in case anyone got any funny ideas. Usually he liked to stay in his natural form to come off more intimidating and powerful but the downside was that his mouth couldn’t articulate and his vocal cords were not as refined. He couldn’t speak in that shape.

The sounds of his spine shifting was like the snapping of branches and he could feel the itching at his scalp as the horns became a heavier and heavier weight before finally, they popped off painlessly and dropped to the ground. He was on his knees and scrapped the ground, leaving trails of lines every which way as the talons made the not so painless transition back into the dull slender fingers of human hands.

The bear pelt, torn in two places, was a heavy weight on him and Buck shrugged, letting it fall over his now pale shoulders. The bulge of his vertibrea made one last creak like an old floorboard and shifted back into place. Once he was ‘human’, he reached forward with dirt and blood crusted hands to collect the flower. He took it delicately in his palm and approached the girl.

She was staring at him unabashingly at his nude form as if in disbelief that something so monstrous could fit into such a small form. She didn’t say anything but sniffled one last time, tears still in her eyes.

Buck could see she had questions but he had no idea where to begin. He had no idea what to say and there was no way he was going to take another young one from their village if he could help it. He glanced over at the rest of his worshippers. They wanted this life. They desired immortality. They deserve the price they pay later on. But these kids just happened to be at the wrong place, the wrong time.

He took a deep breath. “You aren’t the first to grieve for someone taken so early…." With that he offered her the red lily. Such a small flower, he had only ever given one away. Even his people knew that they were his and his alone. "And unfortunately, you won’t be the last.”

She took it between both palms and looked down at it with a pained expression. She didn’t even seem to notice that her bind were free until Buck was standing in front of her with the rope in his clutchs. He pointed in a random direction. "I rarely grant this opportunity. To the north leads back to the village."

As if just seeing this opportunity now, a flash of determination flickered in her eyes and she took off running. She didn’t look back as she escaped. No one tried to stop her. After all, she had been granted leave by the very god they worshipped. They watched with dark eyes till her form disappeared into the trees.

***

“And you just let her go?” Bed inquired, taking a sip of his tea. He was sitting on top of a tombstone with one leg crossed over the other. His dark clothing billowed at the edges as if made of smoke and his eyes were pure black.

Buck was seated crossed legged in the center of the graveyard with his own tea on the ground before him. It had long since cool down but he wasn’t feeling like drinking it. Not that he couldn’t, his human looking form could consume all the things that could normally be eaten but after the things he had experienced, he just didn’t feel like it. “What else could I do? Mark her? No, she didn’t need to suffer anymore.”

“It might have been more merciful to have done that.” Bed glanced down at his drink and finished the cup, setting down on the grave beside him. “She’ll have to live with the memories of what you did and live with the knowledge that creatures like you exist in the world. No one will believe her of course but-”

“I know…” Buck picked at the grass with his fingers, looking dejected at his bare feet. Bed was right, of course he was right. The man was wise beyond his years. “Thanks for listening.”

Bed gave him a blinding smile, a complete contrast from his morbid job. “Hey, what are friends for?”

“Say, what are we doing here anyways? Isn’t your whole job to already reap the souls before they’re in the ground?”

“Usually that’s the case but this one is being more… stubborn.” Bed had a coy grin on his face that had sweat beading at Buck’s brow.

He glanced around at their meetup spot and noticed a convenient shovel, sitting all too innocently a few feet away from a freshly covered grave. Bed had followed his gaze and noticed the disturbed dirt as well before he tilted his head away to sip at his tea like nothing was wrong.

“Don’t tell me…” Buck got up from his cross legged position and stood up. He tugged at the bottom of his shirt, still not used to wearing clothes and not the usual pelts and stood over the covered pile of dirt. “Uh.. hello?”

“Bed, let me out. I swear, this isn’t funny.” A voice was barely muffled through the dirt. It so quiet even Buck had to strain to hear it with his heightened senses. He looked up at the reaper, who had uncrossed and crossed his legs the other way. He was batting his eyelashes like he had no idea what was going on.

“Bed, did you bury Criken again.” Buck asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“Yes.” The voice under the ground called out louder this time at the same time as Bed casually responded with a “No.”

Bed let out an exasperated sigh. “What? It’s not my fault he sleeps like the dead.” He tried to keep a straight face at that little joke but couldn’t managed and trailed off into little fits of giggles.

“Fuck you Bed!” They both could hear the angry thudding off fists on something solid and well, at least Bed put him in a casket this time from the sounds of things.

Buck sighed and rubbed his brow before directing his attention back at the reaper. “I know he’s undead but still, don’t you think burying him is a little on the morally grey area?”

“Since when did we care about being morally ok people?” Bed sighed and pouted, resting his chin in his hand. He was hunched over from his seated position on the tombstone and looked like he was pondering heavily. “ Besides, he’s fine. He’s only been in there for a day. I didn’t even put him in there to begin with.”

Criken banged louder this time. “I’m claustrophobic you prick.”

“No you’re not.” Bed sung back.

“You’re right but hell, I’ll be anything you want if you just let me out of this box.” Criken murmured, his voice coming off more strained as he spoke. “I promise I’ll only kill Tomato. Buck, please if that’s you. Have a heart and dig me up.”

Buck already had the shovel in his hand and started digging, working easily with the tool as though it were an extension of himself. For being small in this form, he was still strong and was shovelling dirt this way and that. Sometimes he aimed a bit at Bed who’d make a noise and quickly scurry off the tombstone before getting dirtied. “Drama queen…”

It wasn’t long before the tip of the shovel hit the top of something solid. Buck tilted his head to the side and knocked on the top of the casket with the shove and got a fist through the wooden casing in response.

Criken tore away the pieces of wood and soft cushioning and pried his way out, climbing out with an over exaggerated gasp. Once out, he kneeled about the broken coffin beneath him and peered up through dirty bangs at Buck. “Thanks man. Mind giving me a hand?”

Buck reached down and easily pulled Criken up, almost throwing him over his shoulder from how strong he tugged. Criken tumbled and landed with an ‘oof’ next to him and Buck scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m really not good at this.”

“Hey it’s fine.” Criken gave him a little shove and picked off a few heavy clumps of mud off his white shirt. Well, it used to be white until he clawed himself out of the grave. After brushing himself off for a bit, he must have concluded that the shirt was unsalvageable and sighed. He turned his attention to Buck and gave him a once over with a toothy grin. “You know.. You look pretty good dressed as a human. Why don’t you do it more often?”

“My antlers have to stretch every once in awhile. Plus..” Buck looked down at the open grave. “It’s kind of like that box Bed put you into, I could do it but why when it’s stuffy as all hell?”

“Yeah but you look cute with horns.” Criken lisped, smiling despite himself. His elongated teeth were much bigger than an average vampires so they had a tendency to poke out at every given moment. It made him look more like a baby who had just grown in their teeth for the first time than a bloodthirsty savant of the night. He noticed Buck staring at his fangs and closed his mouth subconsciously, his expression one of embarrassment. Undoubtedly, he would be blushing if he still could.

He glanced over his shoulders at Bed who was casually twirling his scythe around like a cheerleader during practise. “You know.. for the embodiment of death itself, you can be a real dick when you want to.”

“I have to keep myself entertained somehow. This job can bore me to tears sometimes.”

Buck piped in. “Or bore you to death?” He looked back and forth between both men, pointing finger guns at them. “Eh? Ehhhh?”

Bed and Criken both groaned at the bad joke. “Goddammit Buck…”

***

 

**Author's Note:**

> The creature that Buck is mostly based off of the Netflix movie called The Ritual. (Yes, I know. The story title is not very creative.) If you haven't seen the movie, I recommend giving it a watch. You can find various ripped versions of it online but shhh, don't tell anyone I told you that ;)


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